


Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

by mother_finch



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F, Gen, mother-finch fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 04:41:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3637086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_finch/pseuds/mother_finch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: Hello. Really love your fics you are a really amazing writer. I originally posted this on therootofourproblem but hoping you might write it. Shaw lives in a world where Root doesn't love her and she's really heartbroken by it. Shaw makes it her mission to get Root to fall in love with her all over again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon a Midnight Dreary

It’s a particularly normal day. The sun is bright but brings little heat in the winter of New York; sky scrapers reach for the clouds with metallic fingers, and people scurry like a large colony of ants along the streets. Sameen Shaw rolls over in bed, checking the clock on her side table. 6:30 am.

Groaning, she sits up, and rubs the sleep from her eyes. Instantly, the frigid air sends shivers down her bare arms, and she rubs them together a few times.   
Looking to the left side of the bed, she sees- nothing. Her brow furrows.  _Wasn’t Root…?_

She shakes her head free of the thought, dismissing it as a dream. Standing, her feet sting as they touch the icy wooden ground of her apartment, and she quickly rummages through her drawers for clothing. She puts on socks, then pulls a long sleeve, black shirt over her head. Lastly, she tugs on a pair of jeans as she walks to her kitchen. Zipping them, she grabs a pop tart from the cabinet, then stuffs it in her jacket pocket as she puts it on. Grabbing her ear wig and slipping on some high heels, Shaw heads out of her city flat, and out to join the marching ants.

* * *

 

Instantly, her nose is whipped by the cold air, and she holds her head down. The wind tugs at her hair, playing with it as she walks.

"It’s a cold one today, boys," Shaw says into her earpiece, wondering if anyone else is awake. She looks over at the sun, still extremely low in the sky, and wonders when the warmer weather will arrive.

"Tell me about it," John’s voice is the first to reply, and he sounds less than amused. "I’ve been spending all morning outside waiting to arrest a man I could have shot twenty minutes ago."

"Do you want another dead body on your report?" Detective Fusco’s voice carries in from John’s ear wig, and Shaw smirks in amusement.

"I don’t see the big deal," John replies casually. Sameen can practically hear Fusco steaming.

"You must really love counselling. That lady, uh- what’s her name?- Iris! Dr. Campbell. She your girlfriend now or somethin’?"

Silence from John. Shaw chuckles, watching her breath fog the air. “When do I get to meet her?” Shaw asks playfully, crossing the street and coming close to the subway entrance.

"If she’s lucky?" John says, bemused. "Never." There is a pause, and then he adds, "And Lionel? She’s not my girlfriend. That would be unprofessional."

"So is shooting everybody," Fusco grumbles in reply. There is a whining of electric, and then a new line enters on the frequency.

"I hope you’re bundled up, Miss. Shaw," Harold’s voice says, skipping any greetings. "It’s not the warmest here."

"Hopefully, I won’t be  _here_  long,” she replies. Looking both ways, she stealthily slips into the subway entrance. Shaw crosses past a few different barriers in the darkness of the underground. “Got any numbers?”

"I’m afraid not," Harold replies. Shaw can hear his voice echo, first a muffled mumble of it from ahead, and then the crisp words in her ear.

"Is Root here?" Shaw asks.

"Right behind you," Root’s voice breaks into Shaw’s ears from behind. Root shuffles past Shaw without another word and she is bathed in light. Shaw watches from the darkness of the staircase as she walks down the subway terminal, feeling something missing.  _Where’s the witty intro? The coy smile? Pet name? Even the hands on my shoulders from behind?_  Shaw ponders how the things she always shrugged off with anger could mean so much to her.

"Root! Hey!" Shaw calls, jogging up to her. Root stops and turns to Shaw with annoyance in her stance. "Where were you this morning?"

"My apartment. Where would I be?" She asks, her voice has extended patience, but it’s laced with an implied  _'duh-huh'_.

Shaw looks at her a minute, eyes searching. But they don’t find what they sought.  _What happened to her?_  Shaw thinks edgily. The usual affection is gone from her eyes, as if it was never there at all. Shaw feels an unsettling churn in her stomach.  _Did I do something wrong?_

"Miss. Shaw- Groves- if you could come here." Root turns and walks into the subway car. Uneasily, Shaw follows, her mind preoccupied.

"What is it, Harry?" Root asks- her normal glow radiating- and Shaw mentally scolds herself for the ache in her heart.

"A number. It should be rather easy, it seems that one of the Governor’s security guards is unreliable. I’d ask Mr. Reese to take care of it, but he is a little busy arresting someone else. Here are…" Harold turns to his desk, then returns with a black leather wallet in either hand. Flipping them open, two ID’s equipped with badges emerge. "Your badges. NYPD."

"John will be  _so_  proud,” Root says in mock enthusiasm, her smile spreading flawlessly across her face.

"Overjoyed," John replies joylessly through their radio waves.

Shaw and Root take their own, inspecting them. Shaw looks over at Root, trying to think of any reason for her alien behavior towards her. Wanting something to say, she peers over at Root’s ID.

"It’s a nice picture. Of you." Shaw says, her eyes drifting up to Root’s. Her eyes are empty, but she smiles.

"Thanks, Shaw."

_______\ If Your Number’s Up /_______

 _Shaw_. It was eating her alive.  _She called me Shaw._  Sameen thinks, trying to find the last time she’d heard that address from Root.  _Months? Years?_  It had been a long time.  _Even at her most serious, Root still used Sameen_.

"You okay?" Root’s voice enters Shaw’s troubled thoughts as they drive down the road. Shaw looks over at her, and Root takes her eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her. "Are you gonna answer, or..?"

"Oh, um, yeah. I’m fine. Are you?" Root peers over quickly again, then takes a right at the corner.

"I’m just fine." She replies conversationally, but it all still feels wrong to Shaw. She swallows, silent a minute, and then balls up all her will to spit out the words.

"You’re sure? You seem… off."

” _You_ ,” Root chuckles, “ _you_  are the one who’s  _off_. Do you… Why are you looking at me like that?”

The car comes to a stop and Root looks at Shaw, slight confusion in her neutral eyes.

"Like what?"

"Like sad. Or hurt or something. What boot kicked you, puppy?" Her last sentence bubbles with amusement, but Shaw immediately becomes self conscious, looking away. _Is this really affecting me this bad? How pathetic_ , she sighs angrily, looking out the car window.  _A sociopath with a soft spot_. Who knew soft things could hurt so hard.

"Let’s go. He’s coming." Shaw says, seeing the security man in the door mirror. "Alone. Seems like an easy one."

"Is it ever easy?" Root shoots back with a smile, then opens her door.

"No." Fusco’s voice comes in, bitter with the cold.

"Hey, Lionel," Shaw feels sick at Root’s flirtatious tone. "Tough day?"

"You can bet your ass," he replies, but his tone is no longer as harsh. "We’ve been following the same guy around all day. The  _one_  day he decides to be a good citizen,” he grumbles. Root laughs, flipping her hair back over her shoulder.

"Should have let John shoot him." She says, a smirk on her face. "You could be here now, instead."

"Unless your  _here_  is warm, I think I’ll pass.”

"Listen, Lionel, we gotta go." Shaw cuts in bluntly, stopping the two’s bantering. "You know.  _The mission_ ,” she says, looking at Root with flustered eyes. Fusco bids his farewells, then signs off. The women round the corner, following the body guard a few feet behind. Root looks at Shaw; sees her bristling with anger.

"What’s your problem?" She asks. Shaw doesn’t reply.

"Do you…." Root’s eyes pull open slightly. " _Like him_? Lionel? Of  _all_ people,  _him?_ " She asks in disbelief, laughing as she looks forward once again.

"No, I don’t." Shaw remarks tastelessly. She brushes past Root, following their target around the corner and into an alleyway.

” _Clueless_ ,” she mutters aloud, anger flaring. The man turns, his sharp blue eyes piercing. He quickly draws his gun just as Root rounds the corner- unaware of the scene unfolding.

"No need to-" Root continues the previous topic, but stops when a heavy force hits her center mass. She drops to the ground as a round of bullets fires past. Smacking her head hard on the concrete ground, she watches painfully as he’s gone in a blonde-haired flash. There are more shots, and she sees the splatter of blood on his leg, and his hands grab it as he hobbles from sight. Blinking a few times, she roles her head straight forward.

Her eyes meet Shaw’s, who is laying protectively over her. Resting on her elbows, Sameen is dangerously close to Root. Their breathing is labored and hard in the cold air. Slowly, they come to.

"Uh… Sameen…" Root says with clenched teeth. Her voice is uncertain, matching her eyes. "You can get off now…"

Shaw looks at her, eyes scanning. She watches the emptiness of emotions on her face.  _What happened?_  Shaw thinks, verging miserable. She looks harder, wondering how Root could so easily throw away how she was before, and if there was anyway to get her back. Shaw wanted to shake her, hit her, kiss her- do anything to get Root back. The thought takes hold, and she ponders the possibilities.  _Close now- very close. It would be so easy to…_

” _Shaw_.” Sameen comes out of her daze, then rolls off. Root stands up quickly, brushing some dirt from her jacket. She extends her hand to Shaw, and she takes it. Instantly, the two start running to catch up to the man- guns drawn.

"You had me worried there, for a minute," Root says, a smile crossing her cold-flushed face. "I thought you might do something… well, you know." she crinkles her nose at the words.

Rounding a couple more corners, they follow the blood trail until they come to the man laying beside a dumpster. His body language shows weakness, and his skin is an unhealthy white. Looking up with pain stricken eyes, he raises his gun with a shaky hand. Three guns point back.

"Wouldn’t do that if I were you," Shaw tells him, walking forward. Root follows, covering her flank. "NYPD, put the weapon down."

"What am I being arrested for?" He asks with a sinister chuckle. Smug. Confident.

"We found your emails," Root says, matching his cocky tone. "About the Governor? Anonymous source handed them in to us. You’re under arrest for attempted murder." The man’s smile drops, and he places down the gun. Shaw grabs the handcuffs from her back pocket.

_______\ We’ll Find You /_______

After dropping the man off to John and Lionel, they return to the subway station. As Root walks in, she sheds her jacket, and Shaw can’t help but watch with entranced eyes.

"See something you like?" Root asks indignantly, and Shaw looks over to where Bear lays asleep. "I’m joking," Root adds, coming over to Shaw. "What’s wrong with you today?"

"With _me_?” Shaw retorts dejectedly, turning to face Root. Yet, she can’t hold her anger like usual. The lack of warmth in Root’s features drains Shaw of all fight. “More like what happened to  _you_.” Her voice is a whisper, but carries in the empty space like thunder.

"What?" Root asks, confusion in her eyes. Shaw comes forward quickly, gripping Root’s forearms and pulling her to her level. Their faces are close, noses nearly touching. Root’s voice changes now, and quivers slightly. Her voice is hushed, and she won’t look Shaw in the eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Look at me." Shaw’s voice is loud, determined.

"Why?"

"Just- Root  _please_.” After a moment, she complies, and her eyes meet Sameen’s. She looks into them, flipping their pages, but Shaw realizes something. Every page where they once were is utterly blank. She swallows hard, the pain of defeat stinging her eyes. She licks her lips, then pulls them in and diverts her eyes, muscles tense.

Shaw notices Harold in her vision, and watches him come closer. All of her feels numb. Horribly numb. Harold stops a few feet from them, eyes trained on her.

"Get up."

"What?" She asks, confused.

"Sam. Come on; get up."

Shaw blinks a few times, bewildered.

"Sameen!"

Shaw jumps up, sucking in a large breath of air. Her eyes stretch open wide, and her heart slams like a jackhammer. Looking at her surroundings, she sighs, then leans back on her elbows. She closes her eyes, steadying her breathing.

"Sweetie, you can’t go back to sleep." The amused voice is a song to Sameen’s weary ears.

Opening her eyes, Shaw looks over. She smiles, and her heart tightens.

Root sits cross-legged on her bed in a tank top and Joe Boxer shorts. She leans forward, elbows on her knees, with her signature, warm eyes. She smiles coyly as she removes a strand of hair from Shaw’s face. Her hand lingers there, twisting it around in her fingers.

"Everything alright?" She asks, dropping her hand; eyes flickering with worry.

"Yeah, Root," Shaw says, shaking the dream from her head. She looks at Root with a deep-set smile. "Everything… Everything’s just perfect."


End file.
